Russian Roulette
by Whovian of a Thousand Words
Summary: In which Pavel Chekov is in love with Spock. Spock is in a relationship with Nyota Uhura, but likes Captain James T. Kirk, who returns his affections. ('Cause he's Kirk.) And oh yeah! Hikaru Sulu is in love with Pavel Chekov. This is going to go beautifully, I can tell.
1. Chapter 1

"Russian Roulette"  
Chapter One

* * *

Pavel Chekov sat at his navigational post on the USS Enterprise, trying to avoid looking behind him. He just kept looking at his controls, focusing way too hard on a speck of dust on the algorithm calculator. His temptation was growing to be almost unbearable. Maybe if he just snuck a small look, just a casual glance. Nothing that would seem too suspicious.

Chekov scratched his ear and (hopefully) looked inconspicuously over his right shoulder as he did. And there he sat. Looking over complex formulas and entering various numbers into them. He wrote down several notes before turning back to his readout screen and reviewing his calculations. Chekov felt a fluttering in the pit of his stomach. There was just something about him that—

"Hey Pavel!"

Chekov jumped a mile. _"Что?! Что случилось?! Я не делал этого!_[1]_"_ He shrieked in Russian. The entire deck went silent and looked at him with worried and startled expressions. Chekov blushed a brilliant shade of crimson. "I am sorry... I was... was just... Nah-zing. Never you mind. Sorry." He cleared his throat and sat back down. Chekov's eyes flashed back to Mr. Spock for a brief moment. The Vulcan fixed him with an annoyed glare. Quickly, Chekov spun around and looked back at his work. Why did he have to be in with love the man that obviously hated him? Why did he have to love Spock?

_Well,_ the seventeen-year-old thought with a small smile, _I can answer zat easily. Because Meester Spock eez perfect. He eez tall and handsome, and he eez intelligent and always knows how to stay calm when der eez trouble. Heez eyes are _очень хорошо_—wery nice. Zey are so filled with emotional zings, even zho he eez Wulcan. And heez face... _Господи[2]_... I cannot describe. So perfect. Zat is all he eez. He eez perfect. But he eez _недоступный_—unobtainable. _

Chekov jumped a little less violently as someone jabbed him in the ribs. This time, he didn't vault to his feet and start yelling in Russian. He turned to his left and saw Sulu looking at him with an amused expression. "What's got you so worked up about? I was just wondering what you were looking at, I didn't mean to startle you so badly."

"Eet was you?" Chekov asked. "Hikaru, you disturbed me when I was looking at—!" He broke off quickly, turning bright red again. He quickly went back to work, keeping his focus far too much.

Sulu raised a brow, still smiling. "When you were looking at what?"

_"Это ничего._ Eet eez nah-zing."

"Don't play that, Pavel. I saw you! You were looking really fondly at something or someone back there!" Sulu raised both his eyebrows devilishly. "It was Uhura, wasn't it? Do you have a crush on Uhura?"

Pavel made a face. _"Это отвратительно! Конечно, нет!"_

Sulu drew a blank. "Pavel, I don't speak Russian, remember?" He smiled anyway. "Regardless, I think it's adorable when you do speak it."

"I said: 'Zat eez deez-gusting! Of course not!'" He repeated. "I do not like Uhura at all. She eez not a friend." Chekov jabbed the buttons on his workspace with more force as he ground his teeth in frustration. He had seen her. He had seen her and Spock... kissing. No, Chekov did not consider Uhura a friend. He considered her a romantic rival. "And zank you for saying so. About my speaking, I mean."

"Not a problem, Pavel." Sulu said, staring at him. "So are you going to tell me? Who were you staring at?" When Chekov didn't answer, Sulu prodded him in the ribs again. "I'm not going to stop bothering you about it! Just tell me!"

"Hikaru..." Chekov began, nervously twisting his fingers on his left hand. "Let us say zat you like someone. But you are unsure if zey like you in zat same way." He was avoiding Sulu's eyes as he continued. "But... you cannot force yourself to not like zis person because you haff such strong feelings. Do you know what I am saying to you?"

Sulu's expression was unreadable. "Yeah... Yeah I know what you mean."

"Zat is how I am feeling now."

"That's pretty... awful." Sulu said, trying to get Chekov to look at him. "I actually feel that way right about now too. Who um... Who do you feel like that about?" He asked awkwardly.

"Will you promise not to zink I am odd if I tell you?" Chekov asked, meeting his gaze. Sulu nodded. "Okay. Well, zah person zat I like..." he leaned closer to Sulu so he could whisper, "...eez a man." He looked worriedly into the other man's eyes.

Sulu's face relaxed enormously, but he whispered as well. "That's not a bad thing, Pavel! You don't have to get so worked up about that!"

Chekov shook his head. "_Нет_—No, Hikaru. You misunderstand. He is _недоступный_—unobtainable. Out of my league."

Sulu smiled warmly. "Well I'm sure if you gave him a chance he'd warm up to you." He coughed slightly. "So um... What does... What does he look like?"

Chekov's eyes went misty as he turned back to his work. A little blush had crept its way onto the young man's cheeks. "Oh he eez perfect, Hikaru. He has short black hair and dark eyes. He has many skills and can defend himself well if he were in a fight. But he eez also wery smart. Zere are not many who are as smart as he. I haff actually been in love with him since we at zee Academy." He was blushing again. "You haff to swear not to tell anyvon! You haff to promise!"

"I promise, Pavel! Now who is he?" Sulu pressed. Chekov looked away, blushing a deeper red than Sulu had ever seen him, and whispered a name. "I didn't hear you, can repeat that?"

Chekov leaned even closer and whispered in Sulu's ear. "...Meester Spock."

Sulu felt like his entire body had been drenched in ice water. He forced himself to turn back to his work and keep his expression neutral. "Oh I see." He said simply in a flat tone. But the little Russian didn't seem to notice the tone or body language of his friend.

Kirk cleared his throat and broadcasted across the ship: "Attention Enterprise, this is Captain Kirk. Alpha shift is relieved and Beta shift is now requested to their stations. Thanks. Kirk out."

Chekov and Sulu got to their feet. The Russian stopped and waited for Spock to leave the bridge before following Sulu. The Asian man cleared his throat and said in a lower voice as people passed them when they walked down the corridor. "So Spock, huh? Well... You could do worse."

The Russian offered a half smile and lightly punched Sulu's arm. _"Молчи!_ Be quiet, Hikaru!" Chekov said, face falling slightly. "But zere eez no way he would ewer ewen consider me as anyzing but a _неприятность_—a nuisance." His smile dropped completely and his walking speed slowed dramatically until he came to a complete stop. Sulu noticed and slowed as well before walking back to Chekov.

"Pavel..." He shook the younger man's arm. "Hey, Pavel. What is it? What's wrong?"

Chekov looked into Sulu's eyes. Sulu was taken aback by how much hurt was reflected in them. "He... He probably hates me, Hikaru. I let heez muzzer die. I could haff saved her... But she fell and... and I could haff saved her..." Tears threatened his vision, but Chekov sniffed and wiped his forearm across his eyes.

Sulu pitied the poor boy. "Listen Pavel." He put his hand on Chekov's shoulder in a comforting way. "I don't think that—"

Chekov wrenched his arm out of Sulu's grip. Tears were streaking down his face as he glared daggers at Sulu. _"Нет! Вы послушайте! Я мог бы сделать что-нибудь! Все что угодно! Но я не сделал, и теперь она умерла из-за меня! **Это все моя вина!** Разве вы не видите?!"_ Chekov shouted with anger and guilt dancing across his face.

"Pavel, please—!"

_"**Нет!**"_ Chekov shrieked and ran down the corridor and out of sight.

"Pavel wait!" But the little Russian was already out of earshot. "Dammit!" Sulu said and ran a hand through his hair.

"What is wrong with Ensign Chekov, Mr. Sulu?"

Sulu turned and saw Spock walking toward him with Uhura at his hip. Sulu swallowed and didn't meet the Vulcan's eyes. "We... We were just talking and he got a bit angry." He said quietly.

Uhura snorted. "I don't think that qualifies as 'a bit.'"

Sulu looked at her and an idea popped into his head. "Do you speak Russian, Uhura?"

"Of course."

"Well, okay." Sulu said, slightly taken aback at the annoyance in her voice. "Well, can you tell me what he said? I don't speak Russian."

"Obviously." Uhura said, ignoring Sulu's glare. She thought for a moment before saying, "I believe he said something along the lines of: 'No! You listen! I could have done something! Anything! But I did not and now she is dead because of me! It's all my fault! Don't you see?'"

Spock raised one pointed eyebrow. "If I may inquire, Mr. Sulu, what is it exactly that you two were discussing?"

Sulu felt his palms get a bit sweaty. "Well... We were just talking about..." He decided not to tell Spock the whole story. He wanted to keep Pavel's secret a secret. "Well, actually, I was talking to Pavel first about how he's been under the weather lately. I was wondering why that was, because you know, I'm his friend and um..." He cleared his throat. "And Pavel was saying how he felt guilty. He uh... He's worried that you hate his guts, Spock."

The Vulcan looked at Sulu with what could've been curiosity and shock. But his expressions were so difficult to understand. _Damn Vulcan._ Sulu thought bitterly. "I?" Spock said, a small note of confusion in his voice. "I do not see Ensign Chekov as being someone, as you so elegantly put it Mr. Sulu, who's 'guts I hate.' I cannot fathom any logic to explain why I should have any reason to dislike him."

"Well when you put it that way, no." Sulu said, wringing his hands. "But Pavel's worried that you have some sort of hate for him after... What happened. You know. On Vulcan."

Was it pain that flashed in Spock's eyes? It was so brief that Sulu wasn't sure it had ever been there at all. The Vulcan drew himself up to his full height. "May I ask where Ensign Chekov is now, Mr. Sulu?"

* * *

Chekov sat in his quarters on the edge of his bed, face in his hands. Occasionally, he'd reach down and pick up the bottle of vodka at his feet and take a long swig. The seventeen-year-old shouldn't even have the stuff to begin with. Not only was he underage, but alcohol wasn't allowed on board any Starfleet ship. Not that Captain Kirk paid attention to the second part anyway; Chekov had snuck into the Captain's quarters several days ago and stole the bottle he was currently nursing.

The realization that Spock would no doubt hate Chekov for what happened on Vulcan hit the little Russian with full force. No matter what he did, Chekov now knew he could never get Spock to even remotely enjoy being in the same room with him. He groaned, saying a string of curses in Russian before taking another large gulp of vodka. He wiped his mouth and sighed shakily. Chekov didn't even care when a few tears managed to spill down his face.

_**KNOCK-KNOCK-KNOCK-KNOCK**_

Chekov jumped and nearly dropped his bottle. He frowned and glared at the door. He had a good feeling he knew who was there. He faced his back to the door and pretended to not be in the room. But the person on the other side entered the code and the door slid open.

"Go away, Hikaru." Chekov growled, taking another drink.

"I am not Mr. Sulu, Ensign Chekov." A familiar, smooth voice said.

Chekov choked on his drink and jumped to his feet. The bottle dropped out of his hand and shattered on the ground. He stared, open mouthed at who stood in his doorway.

"Meester Spock!" Chekov said in a strangled voice about an octave or two higher than normal. He wiped the shards of glass under his bed and put his hands behind his back. "I... I mean..." He cleared his throat. "C-Commander, please come in..." He said timidly.

Spock entered and shut the door behind him. He raised a brow and fixed Chekov with a questioning stare. "Were you drinking, Ensign Chekov?"

"Yes sir."

"You are aware of the regulations surrounding alcohol on any Starfleet vessel, are you not?"

"...Yes sir."

Spock was silent for a moment, considering the young man before him. "I am terribly sorry Ensign Chekov, but I temporarily lost my senses of sight and hearing and do not have the faintest idea as to what happened when I walked in." Chekov's mouth dropped to the ground. "As such, I am confident that you were not participating in any... shall we say, _unsavory_ activities when I entered. Am I correct?"

Quickly taking advantage of Spock's kindness, Chekov nodded vigorously. "Y-Yes sir!"

"Very well, Ensign." He said. "Then I shall proceed with the reason I am here." He looked at the armchair next to the bookshelf and reading lamp. "May I sit?" He asked, gesturing to the chair.

"Oh yes! _Я сожалею_—I'm sorry! Please, please be seated!" Chekov said, very flustered.

"Thank you." Spock said, sitting and gestured to the corner of the bed. "Please sit with me. ...Pavel." Chekov felt his face glow bright red as Spock used his first name. He sat on the bed across from Spock, his hands shaking. "I would like to discuss a conversation I overheard you and Mr. Sulu having in the hallway." Chekov's face drained of all color. "Before you jump to any conclusions, I only overheard you shouting in Russian at Mr. Sulu and running off. However, Uhura was with me—" Spock noticed a vein jump in Chekov's temple and his fists clench slightly. He didn't address it, but kept it in the back of his mind. "—and she was able to translate what you said. After obtaining a small amount of information from Mr. Sulu concerning the context of the conversation, I came here to... shall we say, 'set the record straight.'"

"Before we go on Commander, I want just say zat... Zat whatewer Hikaru said... I _swear_—"

"Pavel listen to me." Chekov shut his mouth instantly. Spock fixed his deep brown eyes directly onto Chekov's ocean-blue ones. "I want you to understand a vital point. I, in no way, put any blame on you for the death of my mother. After reviewing all the factors surrounding the incident, the only explanation was that it would've happened regardless of who sat at the controls. It is illogical for you to feel guilt over an event of which you had no control, Pavel."

Chekov felt half of the problem lift from his shoulders. "So zen you did not hear anyzing else of what was said, Commander?"

"I did not." Spock fixed him with a critical gaze. "Should I have?"

"No sir! Eet was just..." Again, Chekov felt his face pale. "Please sir... What _exactly_ did Hikaru tell you?"

Spock blinked in surprise at the urgent tone in Chekov's voice. "He merely stated that you felt a considerable amount of guilt for Mother's death and it had been weighing on you since the conclusion of the _Narada_ mission. Considering that the _Narada_ mission was two weeks and four days ago, the need for you to understand this was quite great. I cannot have the best navigator in all of Starfleet not performing at his best." Spock offered Chekov a very rare smile. The Russian couldn't help but smile back, his blush returning some color to his face.

"Zank you Commander." Chekov let out the breath he was holding. "Zat means a lot to know zat you don't hate me."

"Quite the contrary, Pavel. I see you as a kind and friendly young man and a very talented individual. You are supremely intelligent for your age and I enjoy engaging in conversation with you." Spock said.

Chekov had to look down at his feet. His smile was so wide it was almost idiotic. "Zank you once again, Commander." He said. "I zink you are a nice person to be around too."

Spock dipped his head once and stood. Chekov stood as well, to not seem rude. "Your compliment is accepted, Ensign Chekov. Now that this former issue has been addressed, I must return to my duties. Thank you for your time. Please enjoy the rest of your evening." With that, he opened the door and was gone.

Chekov sat back down and sighed. Well, at least Spock didn't hate him.

* * *

_Well. This is going well. Sort of._

_Poor little Pavel. He's really getting the short end of the stick here. Maybe he'll have better luck in the next chapter! I wouldn't know. Oh wait, yes I would, I'm the author! _XD _My SpellCheck wants to murder me with a blunt object every time Pavel speaks. Especially when he starts speaking Russian,_

_Oooooh! I am on FIRE with all these stories! Also, this is NaNoWriMo! (National Novel Writing Month) And also research month. Because I'm still in school, I have this thing that I do called school work, so I'll be doing that for a fair percentage of the time. I'm not sure when I'll get to update, but I will as soon as I can. _:)

_Thanks for reading! _^_^_ Please be sure to review, I can't do anything unless you review!_

1: "What?! What has happened?! I did not do it!"  
2: "Oh my goodness..."


	2. Chapter 2

"Russian Roulette"  
Chapter Two

* * *

Chekov found it very difficult to work that morning. He had been thinking about his talk with Spock for the past two weeks since it occurred as well as his inability to confess his feelings for the Vulcan when he had the chance. Every time he passed Spock, he would attempt to speak to him, but his courage evaded him each time. It was all he could think about and it was driving him insane. Chekov's sleeping had been very limited and his eating almost nonexistent.

Sulu took notice to his friend's frame getting thinner and thinner and the circles under eyes getting darker and darker right away. Many times he had tried asking what was wrong, but each time Chekov had just shook his head and didn't answer. So, Sulu had taken to carefully watching Chekov out of the corner of his eye. The Russian was trying very hard to focus on the coordinates he was attempting to configure into the system's data core, but his hands were shaking so violently that it made typing virtually impossible.

Kirk had noticed Chekov's depleting health as well. Earlier that morning, he had asked Bones to come to the bridge and discreetly evaluate Chekov without the seventeen-year-old realizing. Bones agreed, but was deeply annoyed by it. ("Dammit Jim! I'm a doctor not a master of stealth!")

Chekov jumped slightly when the doors swung open. McCoy walked in and made a beeline for Kirk. The two mean began to urgently talk in hushed tones. Moments later, the doors opened again to admit Spock. The Vulcan stalked in, his normally calm and controlled demeanor now touched with annoyance and a slight amount of anger. Chekov found this a bit frightening. Vulcans never _ever_ showed annoyance, much less anger. Or any kind of emotion at all for that matter. Chekov knew that the commander was only half-Vulcan, but it didn't matter. If Spock was this agitated, then something was wrong. The Russian also noticed that Uhura's seat was empty. A little balloon of hope swelled. Did they have a fight? Did they break up? He hoped so. _Zat was so rude! _Chekov thought in horror. _How could I zink such zings?!_ He then noticed Kirk and McCoy looking at him with concern etched into every detail of their faces.

"Chekov, could you come here for a minute?" Kirk asked before looking back at the PADD that McCoy offered him. The young Russian jumped to his feet and was immediately in front of the two.

"Yes Keptin?" Chekov said, trying to not let his eyes travel behind Kirk. His hands still shook and he restlessly bounced from one foot to the other.

McCoy looked at him critically for a moment. His arms were crossed and his dark eyes searched Chekov up and down. "In order for this to actually be accurate, I need him to come with me." McCoy muttered to Kirk.

Kirk looked between the two. "Permission granted." He said lazily before looking back down at the data on the PADD.

"I wasn't asking permission." McCoy growled. He roughly took Chekov's arm and led him off the bridge. "Sorry to be so secretive, kid but we needed to know what's bugging you." He said as he brought Chekov into the sick bay.

"I don't understand, Doktor." Chekov said, brows furrowed.

"Well, it's obvious to Kirk and Sulu that you're really upset about something or you're getting really sick. Hell, it could even be both. Now please take a seat." The young ensign sat on the examination table. He twisted his hands and looked around, trying to act natural. "How do you spell your last name again?"

"C-H-E-K-O-V. Zat eez zah English wersion and how eet eez spelled in zah computer, sir."

McCoy typed in the letters and pressed enter. He pulled up Chekov's medical records and began entering more information. "Okay, that should do it there..." He said as he entered the last bit of data and turned to Chekov. The doctor then began examining him from top to bottom. McCoy listened to Chekov's heart, he took his temperature and blood pressure, and he felt the muscles in his neck and back. Throughout this whole procedure, McCoy asked him questions; all of which he answered:

"Do you feel like something bad is about to happen?" (_"Да_—Yes.")

"Are you having trouble concentrating on your work?" ("Yes sir.")

"How much sleep are you getting?" ("Not much at all, if any some nights.")

"Have you been getting headaches?" ("Many times in von day.")

"Do you feel tense or jumpy at the slightest things?" ("I haff been jumping a lot, yes sir.")

"Are you having trouble remembering things?" ("I do not remember zah simplest zings...")

McCoy removed his stethoscope and placed it on the table. He leaned against the opposite table and crossed his arms. "You've got a pretty serious case of anxiety going on, kid." When Chekov looked unsure, McCoy rolled his eyes and continued. "Your heart is racing, your temperature and blood pressure are slightly higher than normal, and you're very tense. You're restless. You can't concentrate. You're sweating even though this room is one of the coldest on board. You're jumping and easily scared even when it's just a door opening. You're barely eating or sleeping and can't remember which shoe goes on which foot." The doctor finished, glancing at Chekov's feet. The Russian looked down and saw that his boots were indeed on the wrong foot.

Chekov blushed slightly. "What can you do to help me?" He asked slowly as he switched his shoes.

"Well we can start by figuring out what it is you're so riled up about." McCoy stated as if it were the most obvious thing in the whole of space. Chekov fumbled his shoe before he got it on his foot. "So? What's going on, Chekov?" McCoy asked, his tone a bit less abrasive. "Is someone giving you a hard time? Did you get some bad news? Hmm? What's happening?"

"I... No. I cannot say." He said, feeling his heart pick up as McCoy's eyes drilled into him.

"Chekov listen." McCoy looked the young Russian in the eye and spoke in what must've been the kindest voice the prickly old doctor could manage. "I _can_ help you out, I promise. I'm a doctor. I'll do anything in my power to make sure that you're okay. But I can't _do_ any of it unless you help me understand what's going on."

"Please Doktor, no! I cannot tell you!" Chekov jumped to his feet and put his hands around his head, trying to close everything out. "I cannot tell! _Не просите меня сказать! Пожалуйста! Я не могу!_[1]" He practically screamed. An overwhelming feeling of panic was setting in; the world seemed to be collapsing around him.

"Chekov, calm down. I'm not going to make you say anything if you don't want to. I just need you to—" He saw Chekov sway on the spot. "Dammit!" McCoy hissed and caught the boy just as he toppled over. He was hyperventilating and his wide blue eyes looked up at McCoy in fear.

"I... I am wery... wery dizzy... Doktor..." His breaths were coming in short gasps and he was shaking. Spots were dancing on his vision.

"Okay, okay Chekov. Listen to me, okay? Listen! I need you to calm your breathing as best you can. Get it back to regular. _Can I get a hypo and a paper bag over here?!_" McCoy yelled over his shoulder. One of the nurses ran over with them. McCoy took the hypo. "This might pinch, kid." He said and stuck it in Chekov's neck. The Russian hissed in pain, his breathing still really high. Blackness was closing in around his vision and he was having trouble hearing McCoy's voice. "Chekov, look at me. I need you to— _Hey!_ C'mon now! Eyes on me! Don' you dare black out, boy!"

"Trying..." Chekov managed to gasp.

"Alright. Here, take this. C'mon kid, it's alright, it's just a paper bag. I need you to breathe into it. You need to get yourself under control, okay? The hypo should kick in in a second or two. It'll help." McCoy said as he handed Chekov the bag and held his shoulder in a comforting way. "Just breathe, kid. You'll be okay."

Slowly but surely, Chekov got his breathing to almost normal. His hearing and vision returned at the same sluggish pace. He sat up slowly and put down the bag. He groaned at his splitting headache and put his head in his hands. A thin sheen of sweat had caked along his hairline and on the back of his neck as well.

"You're okay now, Chekov." McCoy said. "You're fine."

"Please can I haff somezing for a headache?" Chekov whispered, his voice scratchy.

McCoy nodded and put another hypo into him. Almost immediately, the pain was numbed and faded. "Well that was one mean panic attack. Lasted a good half an hour. Here," the doctor handed him a towel, "go into the bathroom over there and clean your face. You're covered in sweat and tears." Chekov accepted the towel gratefully and stood. "You okay to walk?"

"Fine. Zank you." Chekov said and made his way into the bathroom. When he closed the door, he took a few shaky breaths before going to the sink. He leaned over it, filled his hands with cold water and splashed it all over his face. The water felt like needles against his warm skin, but it was better than the sweat that had been there before. Chekov grabbed the towel, wet a corner of it and rubbed the back of his neck. It sent a chill down his spine that went all the way to the tips of his toes and back up to his head. He shuddered and looked in the mirror above the sink.

For a moment, Chekov didn't recognize himself. His face was much gaunter, his blue eyes had dulled, and the only emotions that could be found were fear and sadness. Chekov frowned and dipped his head, looking into the sink basin again. He needed to do this now. He needed to face his fear and get a hold of his life again. This was stupid. He couldn't keep living in fear of the Vulcan commander. It was alright. If he just got it over with, it would all be fine.

"Hey, where you— Hey! _HEY!_" McCoy shouted. He dropped everything he was holding and ran after Chekov, who had bolted out of the bathroom and out the door. "Get back here, Chekov! You can't be running like this!" But the Russian paid him no mind and sprinted ahead.

The doors to the bridge flew open and Chekov dashed in. He grabbed the back of Spock's chair and spun it around to face him.

Some sort of surprise flitted in Spock's eyes at this. But he merely looked up at Chekov and erased all traces of emotion. "Ensign Chekov, what is the meaning of—?"

_"Нет_ Commander! Do not speak!"

McCoy finally ran in. "Chekov!" He hissed in anger. "Jesus Christ, Chekov, you _cannot_ just run off like that! You need to keep your heart rate and breathing down! I swear to God, you're worse than Jim..." He took hold of Chekov's arm. "Now come back with me to the—"

_"Отпустите меня, доктор!"_ Chekov yelled as he tried to wrench his arm out of the doctor's grip. _"Мне нужно поговорить!"_

"Dammit Chekov, I don't speak—!"

"He told you to let go of him, he needs to talk." Spock said. "I've been learning the Russian language to help everyone understand our youngest crew member when Lieutenant Uhura is not available. I am quite fluent in the language now." He explained when he was fixed with astounded looks.

_"Да._ As zah Commander and I haff said, let me go!" After considering the young ensign for a full minute, McCoy released his arm and stepped back. Chekov turned back to look at Spock. "Meester Spock, you must understand when I say zat I haff been trying to speak to you about zis for a long time. Since we spoke in my room about my guilt. But what I am saying eez not new, eet has been in my head since I first saw you when we were at zee Academy. You know zat I haff admired you for a long time, but eet is not just zat! I..." Chekov swallowed and shut his eyes before screaming, _**"Я влюблен в тебя!"**_

The whole bridge was silent. Everyone looked at Spock. His eyes told the story that his face did not express. Shock and disbelief. The Vulcan stood looked around the room, unable to speak. His dark brown eyes fixed onto the trembling Russian's blue ones. Suddenly, Chekov lunged at him.

Up until that point, everyone had been wondering what the boy had said. But now it was quite clear as he locked lips with the commander. He must've said something along the lines of: "I love you."

It was at that moment that Uhura decided to walk into the room.

Then everything happened at once.

Uhura's fist connected with Chekov's jaw and the Russian tumbled to the ground, lip split and bleeding while a large purple bruise blossomed on his jaw. His head collided with one of the consoles with a sickening crack. He was knocked unconscious and blood trickled from the gash on his head. Spock glared daggers at Uhura before—to everyone's surprise and alarm—slapping her across the face. Sulu lept up over the controls in a rage and made to tackle Uhura, only to be held back by McCoy and Kirk. Uhura began shouting at Spock and he spoke in a voice of such rage that it was a wonder she didn't flee the room in fear. Sulu was screaming a long string of curses at her while still trying to get free from the grip of the captain and doctor.

"_EVERYONE SHUT THE HELL UP!" _

And everyone did. They all looked at Kirk, who was now sweating with the effort of holding Sulu back. He fixed his glare to Uhura. "Lieutenant Uhura, your services on the Alpha shift are no longer required." He said with venom. "You are hereby confined to your quarters for a month with no contact from anyone on this ship except for myself and Commander Spock. After the month is up, you are reassigned to Beta shift. Be _very _glad I'm not court-marshaling you for the unprovoked assault of another crew member. Your time starts now. Either go to your quarters on your own or I can get Cupcake in here to escort you." He spat. If looks could kill, Kirk would have been a dead man. Uhura hissed several curses at him and stalked out of the room.

There was silence as Spock composed himself and turned to Kirk. "I assume that I am to receive similar punishment, Captain?" He asked, keeping his voice level and neutral.

"No Spock, you're not. You were provoked. She just lashed out." He and McCoy both released Sulu, who practically flew to Chekov's side.

"Pavel!" Sulu let out a choked sob. "PAVEL!" But the Russian didn't stir.

"Get Chekov outta here _now, _Bones." Kirk said, panting.

McCoy was in his element. "You, you and you." He said, pointing to several red-shirts along the bridge. "Get that emergency stretcher on the far wall and bring it over here. You," he pointed to a man in blue, "give me your shirt so I can compress the wound. You and you, help me lift him onto the stretcher. _C'mon people!_ Boy's loosin' blood!" He barked, his Southern accent pronounced now. Everyone picked up speed instantly and the job was done. "Can't get nothing done quick enough 'round here..." McCoy muttered as they walked out, Sulu in tow.

Silence again weighted down on the bridge.

"Wha' the hell did I miss this time?!"

Everyone turned and looked at the door. Montgomery Scott stood there, sandwich in hand and looking at all of them in mystification. Scotty looked from one person to the next. "I leave the room for five minutes ta get me a sandwich and everything falls ta shit!"

* * *

_Oh Scotty. How much you love your sandwiches. Scotty/Sandwich. It's canon and I ship it. Okay it's not actually canon but it might as well be. It's like Drapple. (Draco Malfoy/Apple, anyone?) Bah, never mind, I'm getting off topic. _XD

_Ten points to your respective Hogwarts house for reading this far into the story! I really enjoy writing this and I hope you enjoy reading it! Remember, I can't do anything unless you review. How am I supposed to know if you like it or not?_

_SPEAKING OF WHICH. Not one single review! Not one! That makes me quite sad... Although I have seen that people are reading this. I've also seen your favorites and follows, you are not ignored here. Just please leave a review this time, please? _:)

_Thanks and keep on being totally awesome! (Do I have any StarKid fans reading?) _;)

1: "Do not ask me to tell! Please! I cannot!"


	3. Chapter 3

_**A/N: **__Oh gosh guys, I'm really sorry about being so late with this. I've been so busy with school that I haven't had a chance to write anything but my research paper. I haven't even had time for NaNoWriMo! I'm really behind here! But on the bright side, quite the outpouring of reviews in that last chapter! _:D _That makes me __**so**__ happy! Here's the list of you lovely people!_

**ArtyLou:** _You're welcome! Thanks for taking the time to read it! _:)_ I'm glad that I could make you laugh. The tenseness of that final scene needed some comic relief; and, of course, who better to do that than Scotty?  
_**BlackDeath6:** _So. Many. Questions! _ _ _Ack! I'm almost overwhelmed! Thank you for such an awesome review! I think that's my longest one ever in my entire history of fanfiction! _:O_  
_**DragonsRme:**_ Not really a good day for anyone, is it? _XD_ Thanks for the compliment, I'm love that you find it so brilliant!  
_**PrincessQ04:**_ Well, I'm glad you got a chance to review last chapter! I've had this idea in my head for a while and I'm __especially__ glad people enjoy reading it as much as I enjoy writing it. _:)

_**A/N:**__ Well guys, I hate to say it, but this is the last chapter. I know, pretty short for a story, but don't worry! Be happy! _:)_ This chapter is based on the song "Even Though" from StarKid's musical _Me And My Dick_. Yes that's a real musical. The lyrics are incorporated into the story as it progresses. Enjoy the chapter! _:3

"Russian Roulette"  
Chapter Three

* * *

When Chekov came to in the sick bay, his head was spinning and there were two of everything. With a groan, he tried to sit up. "Don't even think about it." The Russian looked to his right and, as his vision slid into place, saw Dr. McCoy standing there, reviewing information on a PADD. "I won't hesitate to give you a swift hypo to the neck and knock you out again, boy." McCoy growled. He put down the device and crossed his arms, looking critically at Chekov. "You gotta take it slow. You got hit something fierce there, Chekov. You've got a mild concussion. Jim said that you are relieved of duty until you are fully recovered. I don't care how long it takes!" He snapped, seeing Chekov getting ready to protest. "Concussions are very serious no matter how minor. You will _not _go back to your post until _I _say so. Are we clear?"

"Creestal clear, yes sir." Chekov said, sitting up slower than before. He hung his head slightly.

"Mm. Well, your lower lip isn't bleeding anymore and you got a pretty nice shiner on your chin where she punched you." McCoy turned Chekov's head slightly to look at the bruise. "The bruise'll probably be there for a little while. Two to three weeks, I'd say." For a moment, Chekov was very confused. Punched? Who had punched— Then, in a flash, it all came back.

He had confessed his feeling to Spock and kissed him. On the bridge. In front of everyone. Then Uhura walked in and clocked Chekov in the jaw. He had fallen and his head hit something, but after that, nothing.

Chekov put his face in his hands. He had _kissed Spock. _

On the _lips._

In front of _everyone _on the bridge.

His life was over. The rumors that would spread... It didn't help that Chekov already got dark looks and whispers. People thought he wasn't old enough to serve in Starfleet. They thought him 'a baby.' _"__Господи_[1]_..."_ He muttered. Now imagine what they would say! He would never hear the end of it! "What haff I done...?"

"Ah. Ensign Chekov. You are awake."

The little Russian jumped and looked at the door to the sick bay. His heart halted. Spock stood there, his face composed and neutral. As always. Chekov tried to speak, but instead he said something intelligent like, "Ugg affag!" Spock raised an eyebrow.

"You are permitted to visitors, are you not?" Spock asked, looking to McCoy. The doctor nodded. After a few moments of awkward silence, McCoy looked between the two men with apprehension, then left their presence, very concerned suddenly with order of the hypos on the counter in the next room.

Chekov twisted his hands and kept his face down as the Vulcan eyed him without blinking. "Meester Spock..." Chekov began, trying to think of some idea as to what to tell him. "I... I am so, so sorry, sir. I haff embarrassed you and myself by doing what I did." He looked up, small tears trickling down his face, at Spock, who kept his face set. "I am so wery, wery sorry and ashamed, sir. I don't know eef I can ewer..." He gave a sniff and wiped his forearm across his eyes. "...ewer find some way to apologize for what I did. But eef zere ees zom-zing zat you zink of zat I can do, I will do eet, sir. I promise I will, sir."

Spock blinked for the first time since he entered, his dark eyes still trained on the little Russian. "Ensign Chekov," he began, hesitant. "It is true that your actions on the bridge proved to be quite embarrassing; however, you acted in the moment, so to speak, and you were not thinking ahead. The consequences of your action were on the extreme end of the spectrum and not typical. It was mere chance that Lt. Uhura walked onto the bridge when you kissed me. Despite this, I would advise that you do not kiss me again." That last sentence stung. Spock sat down in the chair next to Chekov's bed. "It is only logical that any secrets kept in this situation should be brought to light." Spock cleared his throat. "I am unsure if you have noted, but Lt. Uhura and I have been growing more distant. I have discovered feelings for another and she is not willing to accept this."

"So zen why did she punch my face eef you are not togezer?" Chekov asked, brow furrowing in confusion.

"The lieutenant refuses to acknowledge that I have broken our courtship." Spock answered in a clipped tone. "I cannot seem to be rid of her, despite how I try."

Chekov considered this for a moment. "Zen just go on with zis ah-zer person. Eef you haff broken up with her as you say, zen you are not bound to her anymore. Zey haff rules against what she ees doing, don't zey? You, you could report her to do whatewer you see fit!"

Spock dipped his head. "I am most grateful to you for your ideas, Ensign Chekov. But I am afraid it is not that simple. I shall find a way to remedy the situation." He stood and tugged down on his shirt, releasing all creases and folds. "I am glad to see that you are recovering and await your return to the bridge with anticipation. I wish you a quick recovery." With that, Spock turned on his heel and strode out the door. He slowed and exchanged a long, meaningful glace with the person who passed him in the hall. Then both men continued on their way.

Chekov smiled to himself. _Now I know who Meester Spock likes!_ He thought to himself.

"Pavel! You're okay! You're awake!" A pair of arms swirled around his middle and pulled him into a close embrace. "I was so worried!" Sulu pulled back and looked happily at the little Russian. The other man had entered from the other side of the sick bay, holding a napkin of food. "I thought you might want something to eat." Sulu said, turning the lightest of pinks. "You've been out for a little over two hours and missed lunch." At the very mention of it, Chekov's stomach snarled. Sulu laughed heartily. "I can see I was right! I brought you a peanut butter and jelly sandwich with crunchy peanut butter and apricot jelly and some strawberries. I know you like those."

Chekov accepted the food gratefully. As he ate, he and Sulu talked about what had happened and about Chekov's talk with Spock from minutes ago.

"So you know who Spock likes?" Sulu said, eyebrows raised and his smile a mile wide. He leaned in closer. "Well, spill! Who is it?" He whispered.

"Okay." Chekov said and wiped his mouth free of the strawberry juice. "I saw zem give each ah-zer zat look. You know zat look. Zha von zat says zat you care for zah ah-zer wery... wery much?" Chekov couldn't help but see that exact same look on Sulu's face as he stared at him. His heart picked up slightly. "W-Well, Spock gave it to..." Chekov looked around before whispering, "zah Keptin!"

Sulu's mouth hung open. "No way."

"Cross my heart and hope to die!" Chekov said, crossing his heart as he said it.

There was a chime and Captain Kirk's voice floated over the intercom system, hailing Alpha shift to their places. Sulu looked very forlorn about this. "Well, I'll... I'll come back and visit later, Pavel. But... Um... Yeah. I've gotta go." Chekov felt something stir in his heart. With a jolt, he realized what it was.

_Joey: Wait, don't go!__  
__There's something  
I need you to know..._

"Hikaru, wait!"

_Sally: (Spoken) What is it?__  
Joey: (Spoken) Um, it's just... Uh, its... Uh, um, shit. I don't know...  
Sally: (Spoken) Whatever, bye Joey._

Sulu turned back and looked at Chekov. "What's up?"

"I... I just..." Chekov swallowed, feeling slightly ill. "I don't know."

"I've got to go to my shift, Pavel. I'll see you later."

_Joey: Just wait, give me a minute  
My head's confused but  
I know there's something in it  
Won't you stay? Please stay  
until I get it clear..._

"No Hikaru, please wait! I just need to get zings clear in my head..." Chekov begged. He had felt this way before.

_Sally: (Spoken) What are you trying to say?_

_Joey: What I'm trying to say is,__  
__I'd feel much better, if you would stay here_

"Pavel, I really need to—"

"I know now!" Chekov hoped he did at least. "Please, Hikaru. Stay with me."

_Even though I was blind before  
I've realized there is so much more  
And it was always deep down in the core of me  
I know it now_

Sulu looked stunned. "But if I miss my shift..."

"Hikaru listen... I haff never zought about you like zis. Eet ees different. A good different." He was positive now. "Zere ees zom-zing... more."

Sulu looked very hopeful. "More?"

_And even though it seems too much to take  
There's a feeling I can't seem to shake  
I feel like, I am reading the signs  
'Cause I know that I'm  
Coming around..._

"_Да."_ Chekov said. He took a bite of strawberry for good luck. "I zink zat I haff always felt zis way. About you. Even when I was after Meester Spock..."

It seemed like Sulu understood now. But his face twisted into an expression of hurt. "Well, Spock is pretty perfect."

_I thought I wanted someone  
Perfect as could be  
When what I needed was  
The one, who was perfect for me..._

The Russian smiled and got to his feet. Sulu panicked and rushed forward to him. "I'm fine, Hikaru. I will not fall." He still leaned on the Asian man for support. "For a long time, I zought zat I did want perfection. And I saw zat in Meester Spock." Sulu's face fell. Chekov tilted his chin to face him. "But I was looking in zah wrong place. I did not need somevon who was perfect. I needed zah von who was perfect for me."

_Even though it used to seem so wrong  
I've taken you for granted far too long  
I'm falling right into the denouement  
And now I'm breaking ground_

Sulu's eyes doubled. "Are... Are you saying...?"

"_Да_ Hikaru." Chekov smiled. "But only eef you feel zah same way."

_Both:  
Even though I felt it from the start  
It's only now we're beating with one heart  
I'm sure that, now is time  
'Cause I know that I'm..._

"I do feel that way, Pavel. I've felt like that since I met you. I never came to you about it because... because I wasn't sure if you felt the same way." Sulu hugged the Russian closer to himself, not ever wanting to let go.

"I zink I always haff." Chekov murmured.

Before either man could notice, they were completely enveloped in the other's arms, kissing like it was the end of all days. Chekov had never felt such passion. There was every kind of emotion in that kiss, everything that a Vulcan kiss lacked. He took Sulu's face in his hands and deepened the kiss. It was a blinding sensation of love and devotion. Chekov hadn't felt this way about anyone ever before. When the lack of oxygen was too much, they broke away, panting and smiling smiles that lit up the entire room. They each rested their forehead against the other's and sighed contentedly.

_I'm coming around!_

"Pavel?"

"Hmm?"

Sulu smiled and quickly captured the Russian's lips again before saying, "You taste like strawberries."

* * *

_**A/N:**__ Oh my... The story's over. And on such a happy note! How odd for me! I usually kill of every character I possibly can and then end super sadly. Nobody died and a happy ending. It must be a blue moon. _;)

(I OWN NOTHING BY THE WAY.)

_No need to fear, however, my lovelies! If you enjoyed my writing here today, please don't hesitate to go to my page and look over my other works! I don't have any more Star Trek stories, but I have Doctor Who and Marvel's The Avengers! If you're an Avengers and a Harry Potter fan, you'll be happy to know that I'm working a crossover of the two! The first chapter should be up by the end of November, when I'm finished with NaNoWriMo and my annoying, giant-ass research paper._ _

_Thanks a bunch for reading, guys! I'm glad that I had you as a part of this little journey. _:)

_Live Long And Prosper,  
M_

Even Though © Darren Criss/StarKid Productions

1: "Oh my goodness..."


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